BUEC 28

No one knew where the rumor had started—that criminals were being harbored in the Grand Temple—but believers came swarming in, each carrying farming tools, stones, or whatever they could grab. The holy knights were sweating as they struggled to hold them back.

“Please go inside. It won’t be good if they see you. We’ll take care of things here.”

However, no one bothered to explain the situation to the Oracular Sinners who had come out of the dining hall after hearing the commotion. Under the pretense of protection, the holy knights merely shoved them forward like baggage being crammed in, pushing at their backs. Yulian couldn’t understand why she was being told to hide without explanation, as if she had done something wrong.

“No, it’s this loud—shouldn’t we at least know what’s going on before deciding whether to go inside?”

“You don’t need to know. If you have time to worry about this, you should be repenting instead!”

The one who snapped at her was Nora, the young holy knight who, along with the paladins, had arrested their group and brought them to the Grand Temple. His face was twisted with anger and irritation. The tone suggested that this whole situation was her fault—that she was being a nuisance when he was already busy.

And then it happened.

A stone thrown by an enraged believer flew straight toward her.

“Yuri!”

In the blink of an eye, the world spun, and she found herself wrapped in someone’s arms. The familiar scent brushing her nose and the pained groan near her ear snapped Yulian back to her senses. She looked up at Sol, who was holding her tightly.

“Sol? You’re bleeding—! Oh my god, that was a stone?! What is going on?!”

“Execute the sinners! Know your crimes!”
“Hand over the criminals to the temple!”

As the furious shouts turned fully toward them, the Oracular Sinners finally realized that they were the target. When the believers surged forward, the holy knights drew their swords, and the situation teetered on the brink of explosion.

“I’m sorry, Lady Yuri. It seems outsiders learned that sinners were gathered here because of the donations involved. We tried to notice early and take measures, but…”

“So that’s what this is? Damn it—no matter what, how can they throw stones at people?!”

Yulian hurriedly wiped the blood trickling down Sol’s torn skin with her sleeve. Life inside the temple had been so peaceful that she’d never imagined the outside world had grown this heated.

The more she wiped, the more the blood smeared across Sol’s face. Unable to do anything properly, Yulian bit her lip hard. She hadn’t felt this powerless since her days in Ratem. Back then too—and now again—it felt utterly, miserably awful.

“Lady Yuri, this place is dangerous. Leave things to the holy knights and please return to your lodgings.”

“Okay. Let’s go togeth—!”

“Eek!”

And Yulian wasn’t the only one feeling that helplessness.

The believers’ rage was directed at all the Oracular Sinners—the ones branded on their foreheads.

“Angela! How dare those lowly commoners—! What are the knights doing?! Find the ones who threw stones at the count’s daughter and cut off their wrists at once!”
“H-hic, Your Highness! I’m so scared!”
“What the hell is wrong with these people?! Damn it, you want a fight?! I’ll tear their heads off one by one—woof! Woof!”

Crown Prince Theorn, his fiancée Angela, and even the young duke Billod were all being attacked indiscriminately. Mud and stones hurled by the crowd reduced those born into the highest nobility into a sorry, bedraggled state in an instant.

“They’ve truly lost their minds—daring to challenge the Master of the Mage Tower…”

The mage tower master was struggling as well. Though he blocked attacks that flew in with magic from time to time, attack spells were forbidden inside the Grand Temple, preventing him from retaliating properly. Looking closely, even he was becoming increasingly filthy, scratched, and bruised.

“Ah.”

In the middle of the chaos, Yulian watched the scene with a vacant expression.

Sol thought she was frozen in fear, but the truth was the opposite. All emotions—fear, anger—had drained away, leaving her detached, like a spectator removed from reality.

Something that had been restlessly writhing in her chest finally cracked open, and suddenly everything became transparent and sharp.

Yulian felt like she knew exactly how this story would continue.

“Lady Yuri? What’s wrong?”
“…It’s the same.”
“Pardon? What do you mean?”
“I’ve seen this scene before. In my head.”

Yes—this humiliation suffered by these precious, exalted people felt far too familiar. So familiar that it almost felt inevitable. And that was true. Long before the oracle ever descended upon this world, Yulian had known—known all too well—that one day they would be struck by the stones of the enraged masses.

That was why she had warned them. Stopped them. Tried to persuade them.

Not a single one listened.

“Lady Yuri, are you alright? You’re bleeding!”
“So this is it. Now I understand. Sol… I think I knew. Yes. I knew.”

She thought she’d be able to say I told you so. To laugh, clutching her stomach, mocking them for ignoring her warnings. To point fingers. To condemn them.

But then—why did the sight of these detestable faces suffering feel—

Not satisfying at all?

The answer came quickly.

Because Yulian knew they hadn’t always been this cruel.

Yulian.

There had been a time when they smiled gently and called her by that name. When had everything gone wrong? Where had it started? The chances to stop it had existed—before the sin, during it, and even afterward.

But Yulian ran away.

She didn’t stay until the end. She didn’t want to fight. She thought it was pointless. She didn’t want to hear unpleasant words. She didn’t want responsibility.

She alone had known they were committing a sin—that they were wrong—and yet she turned away for her own comfort.

Ah. Yes.

These wretched people were her sin.

“STOP!!”

Yulian’s shout—gathered with all her strength—cut painfully through the tangled chaos. There was resolve in her voice, and for that moment alone, sinners, holy knights, and enraged believers alike froze and turned their attention to her.

Her face looked as though she might burst into tears from injustice—yet at the same time, as if she had accepted everything, and as if she had reached enlightenment.

After a brief, razor-thin silence, her lips parted.

“I… will make a confession.”

* * *

“Are you certain?”

The High Priest, who had only just arrived after hearing of the disturbance, leaned close to Yulian and whispered. This was different from when Angela had stepped forward to confess. Though Yulian’s declaration had momentarily halted the riot, the believers were still seething, eyes blazing from the back of the chapel.

If Yulian, like Angela, failed to receive an answer, no one could guarantee what would happen inside this confined space.

“If that was merely a spur-of-the-moment ploy to calm things down, give me a signal. I’ll resolve the situation immediately.”

If words were difficult, he suggested signaling—scrunching his nose and awkwardly winking with eyes half-hidden by his shaggy bangs.
That’s not how you wink…

Despite declaring she would confess, Yulian’s heart was still in turmoil. Seeing his ridiculous attempt made her let out a small laugh, easing her tension.

“No. It’s not like that. Let’s begin.”

Yulian walked steadily to the statue and knelt. The High Priest opened the scriptures and stood behind her. His large, thick, yet warm hand rested on her shoulder, his shadow pouring over her like a veil covering her face.

“Yulian Anderson. You stand here today to confess your sins of your own will. Be honest before God. He knows all things—so confess your transgressions truthfully, without a single lie.”

The chapel was packed—with Oracular Sinners like herself, priests, holy knights, and believers—but not a single person breathed loudly.

All eyes were fixed on the back of Yulian’s head.

Everyone waited, holding their breath, for the words that would leave her lips.